Only A Boy
by VeniVediPerivi
Summary: (AU Crossover) When the 'Tear Drop of the Nile', a priceless piece of jewelry belonging to the French royal family, is stolen from the Louvre muesum, MI6 is contacted to find it. Sherlock, on the other hand, soon buts into the investigation when he finds out that Moriarty is involved, to Mycroft's outmost disappointment. But they are all wrong and a buried secret is revealed.
1. Prologue

How would one explain Artemis Fowl? A child prodigy, son of the Napoleon of Crime, many have tried but all have failed. That fate was mostly ensured by his father who has quite the interesting definition of 'failed.' Let's just say that everyone who got too close to his son would cash in only to bite the dust. Artemis was very much aware of these activities that were happening all around him. It was after all obvious when someone of their household suddenly went missing. But who was he to state his opinion? He did not want to anger his father. No. He wanted to make him _proud_. All he sought in his life was approval from the man that taught him everything he knew. From the man who took care of his needs. You see, Artemis wasn't raised to be an _ordinary_ teenager, he was raised to be a business partner since he was the sole heir of his father's criminal organization. He was his only lineage. He didn't exactly have any close and sappy filled moments with his father, matter of fact even thinking that made him sick to his very core. He didn't have a normal life like other children. He wasn't like any other child. He was manipulative, ambitious, cunning, deceptive, but most of all he was a thief. He was many other things but he wasn't a murderer. His father filled that area with his cruel ways, the things that he did to other human beings were almost unthinkable. _Almost_. For Artemis it was a part of his daily life. He lived and breathed his father's criminal activities, matter of fact he even participated in them. With all this in mind, it was nearly impossible to believe that beneath Artemis' cold facade that he was still just a child. That he was still

 _ **only a boy**_.


	2. Like Father, Like Son

Artemis Fowl the II sat in front of his father's desk, exasperated. It wasn't that he was annoyed at his father, but more of the man's current activities, which were made up of ignoring his only child and listening to the Beegees, as if Artemis did _not_ just come back from a heist in France. The heist had gone successfully, as always, and there had been no hiccups in Artemis' plan. Everything went according to his strategies and it was flawless in every aspect. The Louvre, the world's largest museum and a historic monument in Paris, had been targeted and a precious artifact had been stolen. It was a necklace known as the 'Tear Drop of the Nile.' On the black market it could sell for millions…or even trade for gold. Gold was what Artemis craved because it was invaluable. Unlike everything else on the market, Gold was always in demand selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars, even millions depending on the quantity and quality of it. _Aurum Est Potestas:_ 'Gold is Power'. His father, on the other hand, did not care much for money; even though it was the one thing that funded his international criminal network. Therefore, Artemis was left to make sure that they had steady funding, whether it came from stealing, blackmailing, or even finding people that supported them; though the last part was the rarest, and frankly the most unlikely. Artemis gazed at his father, exasperation present on his face now. He cleared his throat, hoping to gain the attention of the Irish man, but unfortunately to no avail.

"Father," Artemis said in a calm and clear voice that resonated throughout the room. He glared at the headphones that were in his ears and then stood up from his seat. "FATHER," He said much louder and put his hands flat down on the wooden desk.

James Moriarty finally seemed to notice the presence of the other person in his office. His eyes snapped open, ready to murder whoever was disturbing him. But those thoughts ceased when he saw his son. His eyes flickered over Artemis, registering his presence and taking in details. He looked exhausted. He had seen his son in a better state, with his slicked back raven black hair that was now ruffled, but also his usual crispy suit was now wrinkled. He most likely slept on the plane he took while heading back from France. Then he noticed how Artemis' skin seemed to have a light peach color to it. If there was one thing that he knew about Artemis, it was that the sun did not suit him. He did not look well in it. Long hours indoors in front of a computer screen had bleached the glow from his skin. He was usually white as a vampire and almost as testy in the light of day.

"Arty," the familiar nickname rolling off his father's tongue with ease. Artemis couldn't help but cringe at it. His name was 'Artemis' not 'Arty', and to be called anything else sent disgusted shivers throughout his body. "I assume your _little heist_ went well," His father continued, finally taking off his headphones. Artemis couldn't help but note the bored tone that came from his father's mouth.

"Father, it wasn't just a 'little heist', as you so curtly put it," Artemis replied, tempted to throw an insult at him but he held his tongue; honestly, there was over ninety-five billion nerves in the human body altogether and somehow his father managed to get on every single one. Of his, of course, because he simply just killed everyone else.

"The whole entire point of the heist was to make sure that we don't go bankrupt. I am the sole funder of all your 'little activities'," Artemis sat back down once again, leaning back into the leather chair.

James narrowed his eyes at the teenager before him, then a wide grin grew on his face. "I'm pleased to hear that it was a success."

Artemis tilted his head studying his father. _'I'm pleased to hear that it was a success._ ' He went over the words in his heads. Nine words, eleven syllables, thirty-two letters that would be mean so little to any other individual, but it meant everything to Artemis. Those words were the equivalent to his father telling him that he was glad that he was back. That he was okay. After all, the heist wouldn't have been a success if something had happened to Artemis during it. A vampire smile grew across his facial features. That was all that needed to be said between them. "I'll take my leave now," He said and stood from his chair once again.

"Not until we have a discussion about something else," James said hastily, causing Artemis to raise an eyebrow. James looked at him and then his gaze flickered down to the chair and before returning to Artemis.

Reading body language was second nature to the teenage criminal genius, but it stemmed out from his ability to visualize a hypothetical situation and calculate the likely outcomes. He could predict a persons motives and what they were about to do just on their body language alone. This allowed him to detect lies and also allowed him to be an impeccable plotter and schemer. It helped figure out where a persons loyalties lied and what others expected of him. And what his father expected out of him in this moment was complete obedience.

Without a word, Artemis listened and sat down. James Moriarty wore a pleased expression as he leaned back into his chair. "You've raised some red alarms for the Queen of England," He stated. It took all of Artemis' willpower to suppress an eye roll. Of course he knew that people would start looking for the 'Tear Drop of the Nile.' It was a priceless piece of jewelry, with a blue diamond and dozens of white sapphires surround the frame of the necklace. It was also the property of the French royal family that had been kept safe in the Louvre museum…not safe enough

"Father, please _enlighten me_ on why England would even start worrying about a necklace that belongs to the French." Artemis said, sarcasm leaking into his

James let out a small 'tsk' hearing Artemis' tone. He let it pass for now though. "Mycroft Holmes."

Artemis raised an eyebrow at the familiar name. All the information he knew about Mycroft Holmes came from his father. All that intel though was leaked out when he was ranting. Except it wasn't ranting. Not quite. Pontificating seemed to be more of the right word. He had heard his father call him the 'Ice Man' and talk about how he didn't just occupy a 'minor position' in the British Government. He _was_ the British Government. From that information alone, Artemis knew he never wanted to meet him. He could sense Mycroft's God Complex from here.

"He took interest in a theft?" Artemis was a bit perplexed.

"Obviously or else I wouldn't be mentioning it, would I?" James said, then looked around the room. "MI6 has been tasked with finding the necklace because they believe that the thief works for me."

"Im surprised. For once they aren't wrong." Artemis commented. He was finding the entire conversation boring and bland. Yes, he knew what MI6 was capable of but he was certain that they wouldn't be able to find them. His father's network was well hidden. So hidden, that MI6 didn't even realize that it had a mole. That's where this information Artemis assumed was coming from.

James smirked slightly and looked at Artemis. "And that's the way I want it to stay. This could give me a chance to topple MI6 and the 'British Government', all in one go. A way to weaken them until they're on their knees."

Artemis blinked and looked at his father straight in the eye. Where did this come from all of a sudden? Was he really that bored? "Father I do not think th-," James cut him off by a simple wave of his hand.

"Arty, Arty," He sighed and stood looking down at his son from across the desk, towering over him, Artemis now sitting in his shadow. Artemis felt his muscles tense and looked at his father dead in the eye. There was nothing to be afraid of. This was his father, he wouldn't hurt him. "You better start preparing yourself. The fireworks haven't even started yet," He smiled.

Artemis gave a nod and clenched his jaw. "Of course," He said as he stood. There was no point in arguing. His father would remain fixtated on this idea until he became obsessed. No one could stop him once that happened. With that said he left the office, not going fast, but not going to slow either. He didn't want to show weakness knowing that his father would just poke and prod at his pressure points. Just the memory of how his father reacted when he tried to put in a wise word in sent shivers up and down his spine. As soon as the door of the office closed, Artemis took a deep breath and smoothed out his Armani suit. He had to make arrangements knowing that they were going to leave Ireland to head to London. That's where Mycroft Holmes took residence, if he remembered correctly. He walked down the hall of the estate before entering his room and closed the door. "The hunt has begun."

* * *

 ** _The moon rises,_**

 ** _The wolves howl._**

 ** _In the dead of night,_**

 ** _Arrives Artemis Fowl._**

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _Well, that's technically the first official chapter of my story! Of course, there were some issues with it because I posted this chapter and the prologue directly from my Quotev and man did I learn my lesson. XD_

 _It had posed quite a lot of computer code in this chapter and the prologue, but I believe I was able to filter it all out so now it's actually readable. I apologize though for not checking over my story after I had it published. I'll make sure to be careful next time and check the Doc and then quadruple check everything before publishing._

 _But besides that I would like to formally thank **Moonlight0007** for informing of this. Although you had done that like August 13th and I am very late in fixing this. Mainly because of school. But thank you again because now my story is actually readable._

 _I hope you all enjoyed this story even though it's starting off a bit slow, mainly because I have to introduce characters who are all across the U.K. and also Sebastian Moran will be present. But until next time dearies! Bye, bye!_


	3. Karma

_It seems that you all liked the last chapter and I hope this one will uphold to everyone's expectations. I plan to make this story short and sweet so I decided to move forward with the plot as much as I can without making it feel to rushed, but if I am please tell me with a review! And for the reason why I am making this story short and sweet, it's because staying dedicated to a story for a long period of time is nearly impossible for me. I always get sidetracked and it always ends up being a disaster because I never finish up those long stories. I will be finishing up this story though. I promise you all that. :) And now to respond to the reviews I previously received on the last chapter:_

 ** _Loveless150050:_** _Thank you for telling me about putting in more paragraphs. I hope that this chapter will be less confusing for you to read._

 _ **GeneralJackStarling:** I hope this chapter answers your question. XD_

 ** _Someguy the anon:_** _Your one word message actually made me laugh._

 ** _chibi raven-san:_** _Love the name! But also there will not be any fairies in this story mainly because I do not want to over-complicate things and make this long elaborate story. I generally feel that with the plot and setting that this story is placed in adding the fairies from the Artemis Fowl book series will not fit in well. I am sorry if I have disappointed you, but I am glad that you do find this story interesting enough to read, even if it does lack that aspect. :)_

 _And now on to the next Chapter! Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

It was a particularly chilly day in London. Clouds blanketed the sky, prohibiting anyone or anything from basking in the warm sunlight, and wind blew in the icy air of the coming Winter. People had already started to wrap up in warm coats and scarves to block out the cold, and keep warm. One these people being a woman who walked down the sidewalk of Baker Street destination in mind, but getting there was a lot harder than it looked like.

Her steps were hesitant and she bit down on her bottom lip nervously, the wind blowing her long brown hair out of her face. The sudden brush of coldness that met her caused her to shiver, despite the fact that she wore multiple layers of clothing. She didn't want to risk getting a cold. The woman flexed her hands feeling her white leather gloves stretch and then bunch up as she did so. She knew that what she was doing was probably wrong, especially since the person she was about to meet couldn't stand her very existence. She knew that was just the way he came off towards her but after everything that happened, William Sherlock Scott Holmes had to hate her. It had all been her fault after all.

Seeing the ominous black door marked '221B', she stood there before it looking at it blankly. She raised her hand as if to knock, her knuckles only just an inch away despite the fact that there was a door knocker hanging from the door. What was curious about it though was that the door knocker was adjusted to the left. She straightened the knocker but still didn't know if she should knock.

She had never felt so unsure in her life. When it came to decisions it was easy for her when she wasn't completely out of it but now...she didn't know. That was taking a toll for the worse on her. She lowered her hand and then rubbed her face, the smoothness of the leather running across her bitter skin. Resting one hand on her hip she tried to work up the courage to knock, but it was impossible.

She couldn't. She just couldn't. But she needed too. Clearing her throat, she took a step back as if it would help her take initiative, but it did the total opposite. It only made things worse. Sighing in defeat, she turned away from the door only to hear footsteps and looked to see a short man approaching holding a grocery bag.

The blog...of course. This had to be John Watson. She recognized his face from the website. She put her hands into her coat pockets and took a footstep backward as if to walk away but was stopped.

"Are you okay?" She heard and turned and her eyes flickering to the man, who was now standing in front of the door retrieving his key from his pocket. She opened her mouth as if to speak but no words came out.

A slight frown etched it's way onto the John's face as he looked at the woman. He had noticed her standing at the door when he he had exited Speedy's. She had just been standing there, as if contemplating if she should knock on 221B or not. Upon seeing her back away though it was obvious that something was wrong.

You didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that much out.

"It's just that usually people come here for help, which you did, but then you started to walk away," He said looking at her, the door now unlocked. He couldn't help but feel general concern for this woman.

The woman in question gave a nod looking at John. "It's...it's my son," She said and took a few steps forward toward him. "I wanted to come here sooner but unfortunately I was already a little more than acquainted with William...I wasn't sure if he would hear me out," She said truthfully, looking at him.

John's frown only deepened as he listened. What happened to her son but also who was this woman to Sherlock? She had called him 'William.' Nobody ever addressed him by his first name. There was a chance that they could have been close at some point.

"Sherlock can be a stubborn arse, but what he needs right now is a case, otherwise the wall will take another beating," He said and opened the door. "I'll make sure Sherlock listens to your case," He said and entered the hallway and gestured for the woman to follow.

She was hesitant at first but stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Your name is John Watson right?" She asked. "You're the blogger."

John gave a nod of confirmation. "You read my blog?" He asked, trying to start up a conversation so the woman wouldn't be as nervous.

She smiled slightly at that. "No. Not really." She admitted. "I only heard about it. I looked into it though because...my son was taken."

John appeared alarm by this. "Your son was taken?" He asked.

The woman gave a grim nod. "It happened a few years ago. Nothing could be done though. I know it's most likely ridiculous of me to ask for help now after all this time but I'm just still clinging onto hope."

John gave a nod of understanding. It was normal for parents to hope that their child was still out there, breathing and alive. It was actually a coping mechanism so they could endure the pain while it was fresh. But over time when it became apparent that a child wasn't going to be found, which happened quite often, the pain would slowly go away which allowed parents to cope with the fact that their child was gone. The pain never fully went away though. "I'm not sure if Sherlock will be able to do anything but there may be something," He said. Especially if it had been years. There was no evidence to go on if it really had been that long. They could at least give it a shot. "Sorry, I never got your name," He said.

The woman looked at him and took a deep breath glad that John was allowing her a chance to see Sherlock. She only hoped that Sherlock also gave her case a chance. "Angeline. Angeline Fowl," She answered.

John gave a nod. "Nice to meet you, Angeline. Sherlock should be in the flat," He said and then started to ascend the stairs, still holding that single grocery bag.

Angeline took that as a que to follow. Taking another deep breath, she couldn't help but wonder how this would work out. How would Sherlock react to her sudden appearance? She knew that he wouldn't be pleased. Far from it actually. Maybe he would hear her out though.

John entered the flat and he looked at the curly haired man sitting in his chair. His eyes were closed and he was wearing his casual clothes, meaning he was wearing his usual crisp suit. His pale skin was prominent against his black suit and his hands appeared to be in a prayer position, just below his chin.

"Sherlock, we have a client," He announced.

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at his flatmate. "John, your deductions never cease to amaze me," Sherlock said, sarcastically. He knew that they had a client when he had heard the two voices downstairs. One distinctively female, the other male. Not to mention the two pairs of footsteps on the stairs. It became apparent to him that this could be one of John's dates, but their was a tone of distress in the woman's voice that was audible. Obviously that meant they had a client. He already had a case on his hands though.

He looked at the wall that was fully decorated with pictures and newspaper clippings. He had taken interest in the disappearance of the 'Tear Drop of the Nile.' It was a priceless piece of jewelry belonging to the French royal family. It had been rumored that the intricate necklace could be sold for ten million. Some people have even estimated more. Whatever the estimate was Sherlock didn't care about it. What he cared about was its connection to Moriarty. Why else would Mycroft take interest in such a case? Well he could be just trying to strengthen diplomatic relations but Sherlock was positive that it went deeper than that.

John sighed and moved aside from the door just as Angeline entered.

Angeline looked at Sherlock and fidgeted with her hands slightly. "William," She began hoping to catch the man's attention.

Sherlock's eyes darted over to Angeline and it appeared that he did a double take, as if disbelieving his own eyes.

"Angeline..." Sherlock started, a bit baffled but he immediately regained his composure and defaulted to something more hostile. "What are you doing here?" He asked sharply his eyes hardening and turning to ice.

Angeline opened her mouth to speak but before she could John stepped in.

"Sherlock," He said in a warning tone.

"No, no John. Don't start now," He scoffed looking at his flatmate. "This has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it."

Angeline looked at Sherlock and then narrowed her eyes. "William-" She started.

"My name is Sherlock," The consulting detective replied angrily.

"Fine then, Sherlock," She corrected bitterly. "I know you're mad at me, you have every reason to be but right now I need your help."

Sherlock looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to help you after everything that happened?" His voice was full of disbelief. After what she had done, he could barely look at her.

John stood there watching the argument escalate and he had no idea what to do. He wanted to step in and get them both to calm down, but it was evident that they both needed to get some things off their chests. They were quite bitter to each other but John couldn't help but wonder what happened? What caused this?

"No, I don't but Sherlock-" She paused and then took a different approach. "Please. I'm begging you. I'll pay whatever you want. I just," She paused gathering up whatever strength she had. "I need your assistance," Angeline begged. She just wanted her son back.

"No," Sherlock said curtly and looked away from her. "I already have a case and I definitely don't need yours."

Angeline pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Sherlock, I'm sorry! I really am, it had all been my fault but right now I need your help. My son-" She started again but was caught off.

"Let me be clear," Sherlock began staring rift down at Angeline. "You are an insufferable, manipulative, and pathological liar. This isn't my opinion either, these are facts. I always thought to myself that if I ever saw you again that it would be too soon, I'm glad to see that I was right," Sherlock hissed.

Angeline closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at Sherlock, who was now standing in front of the couch that was pushed against the wall. He appeared to be staring intently at the collage of papers on the wall. Sherlock wouldn't help her. No, not without bait. She knew a way that would get him to help. All she had to do was say the one word that would catch his full attention but also make him interested in her case. She had to reel him in. Taking a deep breath she looked at him.

"Moriarty," She said loudly and as clearly as possible.

Sherlock froze and immediately tensed up. He snapped his head toward Angeline and looked her over. "How do you know...?" He asked, trailing off slightly.

"He has my son," She said quickly, not wanting to lose his attention.

John's eyes widened at that. "What would he want to do with your son?" He asked. This explained why the police couldn't do anything. No one knew a thing about Moriarty years ago. Let alone where he could be found or even his name. Angeline knew though. That made her a liability to Moriarty. She should have been killed but she was standing before them, breathing. There was something else. Something that they were missing.

Sherlock noticed that Angeline ignored John's question. She was hiding something. But then again when wasn't she? "Angeline if you have valuable information on him-"

"This isn't about information, Sherlock! This is about the safety and security of my son! I want him back! I want Artemis safe and away from that sadistic and twisted man!" Angeline snapped at him, overcomes by her own emotions. She took another deep breath trying to gain back her composure.

Her son's name was Artemis, but not only that there was something about the way that Angeline described him. As if Angeline knew Moriarty personally. Sherlock's eyes flickered over her and then that's when he felt like he figured it out. If he was right then this could change everything, and Angeline would be able to help in not only in finding the 'Tear Drop of the Nile' but also tracking down Moriarty. That meant that he would have to trust Angeline's information. He would have to trust her.

"If you answer John's question and it is the answer that I am expecting then I'll help you find your son. But only if you answer his question right," Sherlock said and turned his body to the woman. "I will of course re-word his question, because it is not as detailed as I want it to be, but it will be in the same context. What is Moriarty's connection to your son, Artemis?" He asked.

Angeline felt taken back but she knew she had to answer. Because if she didn't then Artemis would be nothing but a faint memory. She felt John and Sherlock staring at her as if she was in the spotlight, which she was. With a trembling voice she finally answered. "Moriarty is his father."

* * *

 ** _The moon rises,_**

 ** _The wolves howl._**

 ** _In the dead of night,_**

 ** _Arrives Artemis Fowl._**

* * *

 _And that's the chapter! I admit I had some trouble writing it, probably because of Sherlock's part. He's an interesting character but extremely hard to write and this is my first time writing as him. I did my best to keep in characterization but if anyone has advice, I will gladly take it! Until next time my dearies!- **Admin**_


	4. Janus

_London. The center of a web. A criminal web where everything was connected by its strings. You pull a string and something happens, but what happens if you pull the string of someone's lifeline? They die. If you pull the right strings you can get the desired effect you wish for. It's like everyone is a marionette under your command. You just have to know what strings to pull..._

Artemis' eyes opened and he blinked against the blinding light that hit him. He sighed to himself knowing that he must have fallen asleep at some point. _How embarrassing._ He thought to himself as he sat up and turned his face away from the sunlight that was streaming through the jet's window, trying to shake off his grogginess as he did so.

"Ah, you're awake." Artemis heard and he automatically turned his attention to the man that sat across from him. His eyes flickered over the man's rather causal choice of clothing and the bright blue eyes that were boring into him, as if he was a specimen under a microscope. _No_. Scratch that. As if he was a target in this man's sniper rifle's scope and he was studying him, waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger. Artemis cringed mentally at his own depiction of the ex-army colonel.

The self-proclaimed 'second most dangerous man in London' was deadly, afterall in the network he was coined as the 'Right hand man of Moriarty'. This was without a doubt true seeing how this man was also his godfather.

"Sebastian." Artemis greeted stiffly and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the cramp that he felt ebbing away at him. "How long have I been asleep for?" He asked.

"Only about an hour." Sebastian answered. "We should be landing in London in about thirty minutes or so." He added, and he folded his hands together letting them rest in his lap. "I'm guessing you didn't get much asleep on the way back from France." He said.

Artemis huffed slightly and looked away from Sebastian. "Unfortunately yes, because I was put at an inconvenience on my return. I had to smuggle my cargo through airport security since taking a Jet back to Dublin would have been to suspicious." He said and shivered at the mundane experience.

He had boarded with a second class ticket along with some of the men that had helped him with the heist. Artemis knew not to expect much from the French airline but the entire flight had been displeasurable. For as long as he lived, Artemis vowed never to take a regular airline again.

Sebastian chuckled slightly at the mental image he had received. "What was it? Did the person next to you try to talk to you or were they just snoring too loudly?" He asked.

"I rather not recall the experience, Sebastian." Artemis said and relaxed back into his seat wide awake at this point. He wished he had been able to get more much needed sleep, but after the conversation he had with his father he had only been given two hours to pack to make sure he had everything he needed. Getting some shut eye was out of the question entirely. He didn't have time for it.

"Well you do have thirty minutes left that you can use to rest." Sebastian began as he went ahead and shifted in his seat his elbows propped up on the arm rests now.

"That wouldn't be wise." Artemis said. "I have thirty minutes to use to freshen myself up before we land and possibly eat something if I'm lucky."

"If you want I can easily just get you something to eat while you go ahead and clean yourself up." The ex-colonel suggested.

"That would be much appreciated." Artemis said and stood up from his chair and looked around, wondering where his father could be. If anything he was probably in the cockpit doing only god knows what or he was probably in the very back of the plane taking care of some business before they landed in London.

It was most likely the later. Artemis walked down the aisle and headed into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Looking into the mirror, he couldn't help but scold at his unruly appearance. His hair was ruffled and just below his eyes thes skin was tinted a darker shade then the surrounding area; the beginnings of bags forming under his own eyes. He sighed and went ahead and smoothed out his hair and splashed his face with some water as he recalled a conversation he and his father had before they boarded the plane...

 _"Arty. It's a beautiful day isn't it?" His father asked with a wide grin. His question made Arthur look at the rare, clear blue sky that expanded over them, completely neverending._

 _"By the looks of it, yes." Artemis answered curtly as he looked at his father, wondering where this was leading to. He never asked such mundane or bland questions unless he had a purpose. Everything he did always had a purpose to it. Every word he spoke, every step and move he made, it was intentional, always leading up to something big in the grand scheme of things, and in that aspect Artemis envied the Napoleon of Crime._

 _Moriarty looked at Artemis and his grin slowly turned into a smirk. "For us it is, but for the British Government." He said and then paused dramatically. "I can't say the same thing for him."_

 _'British Government', 'him'. By the way his father spoke he was talking about no one other than Mycroft Holmes._

 _"Father, if you don't mind me asking, but what exactly are you planning to do?" He asked, looking up at the man that raised him. A man of never ending secrets and double meanings. The Roman God 'Janus' personified and walking beside him. The god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, passages, and endings._

 _"All in good time, Arty." Had been his father's only response._

Artemis took a deep breath and gripped the edges of the sink water dripping from his face and down, falling through the air until it reached its final destination.

He looked up into the mirror his memory finally making some sense to him now.

His father was like a God. A man who could pull the right strings and make anything he wanted happen. He started little 'games' across the globe and he was the one that ended them and all it took was a small tug of the right string for him to just cut it off and kill somebody. He brought endings to people. Except they just happened to be more _permanent_.

It was in moments like these that Artemis felt conflicted. Yes, he knew that what his father did to people was morally wrong but it was what he had grown up with it. He was sad to admit it, but he was used to it. It was his life to be around people who were criminals. He himself was one. A thief, liar, manipulative, deceptive...but not yet a murderer. He had never pulled the trigger of a gun, never ordered somebody to kill another human being. That was all his father's doing, but was he a murderer because he didn't stop him?

Artemis rubbed at his eyes and then went ahead and dried his face, conflicting thoughts rushing through his head. He knew the answer to his own question and he knew that he was no better than the people that surrounded him day in and day out. He exited the bathroom and closed the door behind himself.

"I was worried you slipped and fell into the toilet." Sebastian jabbed at Artemis. "You were in there for quite a while."

Artemis scolded at the ex-colonel and then he walked down the aisle and toward his godfather, who was sitting holding a plate of food. "I know, I was just thinking." He admitted and then noticed what the food actually was. "Is that-" He began but was cut off by Sebastian.

"Sushi made with caviar?" He finished the boy's sentence. "Maybe." He grinned and held out the plate to his Godson.

Artemis took it gratefully and sat down across from Sebastian once again. "There is no maybe. I know caviar when I see it." Caviar was a delicacy that Artemis couldn't get enough of. He loved the taste of it because the dish just happened to appeal to every single one of his tastebuds.

"I didn't even realize we had any onboard." He admitted as he started to eat, clearly pleased with this new found development.

Sebastian shrugged lightly. "I just saw it and knew you would want it. James probably requested it for you." He said.

Artemis gave a nod knowing that theory was logical and the most likely. "I'll have to thank father then later, possibly when we disembark." He said and then took another bite of his sushi.

Sebastian shook his head. "As soon as we land James has business to take care of." He then paused studying Artemis for a second. "He didn't tell you his plan did he?" He asked and wore an expression that could be considered as sympathetic.

Artemis pressed his lips together in a thin line. "He probably thinks that I'll get in the way. I just don't understand though. I help with heists and thefts and fund his criminal empire, and yet he still keeps information from me about his schemes, which I feel like I have a right to know. Not just as his son, but also as an employee." He said knowing it wouldn't be right to say 'partner'. His father didn't have partners. He stood up on his own two feet and could control everything as easy as someone could breathe.

"Artemis, you might not realize it but James keeps you out of the 'major things' because he cares about you. He's just trying to protect you." Sebastian said but he held back from spilling out the whole truth.

Sebastian knew that James cared about, dare he say even loved his son. When you are in business with their special line of work, having a child is no small feat. Not only because no one expects to actually live long enough to have children, but because of the vulnerable position it places the parent in. The child of a powerful individual is powerful leverage. Especially against a man like James.

They had done their best to keep Artemis' existence a secret against rivals, but also from people even within the network. It wasn't Artemis Moriarty. No. It was Artemis Fowl the Second for this very reason. To protect Artemis and protect James. They were killing two problems with one secret and so far it had been effective.

Artemis hid his contempt. He knew that he shouldn't disregard something that should be taken into account. He knew his father cared. He knew his father had difficulty showing that he cared.

The man was sadistic, narcissistic, and downright passive-agressive but one thing he wasn't was a sociopath. He had feelings just like any other human being. Although it was sometimes hard to believe that he was even human.

He had heard people before describe him as a snake, waiting for the right moment to strike. Others though described him as a spider. Artemis though, saw him as something close to a God. His thoughts flashed to something that Sebastian told him once:

 _"Kill one man," Sebastian began as he began to dismantle his 50 caliber semi-automatic rifle. "You're a murderer." The gun in his hands clicked and he started to pack away the parts. "Kill millions and you're a conqueror." He then paused and looked at Artemis and smiled slightly. "Kill them all and you're a god."_

The memory made his skin crawl. At the time it had been nothing. It was just his godfather joking around as he quoted Jean Rostand. Artemis knew that he should have been a bit disturbed by the fact that Sebastian had said it as he dismantled a lethal weapon but he hadn't been. That was normalcy for him but now the words had a different meaning to him, because the man sitting across from him had blood on his hands and yet he was able to sleep peacefully during the night. At least most of the time.

He didn't care about that though. The only thing that Artemis cared about was the safety of his godfather. He needed him in his life because frankly, he seemed to be the only one he could talk openly to. "I know. I find it highly annoying at times because all I want to do is stand by my father and help him. I'm capable of taking care of myself."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that. "You can't even fire a gun." He deadpanned. "Let alone make yourself a sandwich without setting something on fire in the kitchen." He said and smirked slightly.

Artemis cringed. "That was one time and that happened when I was nine. I was irresponsible and ignorant then, I admit that much." He huffed as he finished his sushi and set the plate done on the table that sat between them.

"At least you admit it. James had a field day with that." He chuckled. "But Artemis it's for the best that you don't get yourself involved. At least not now."

Artemis shook his head slightly. "I don't understand. Why am I here then if I'm going to be such a burden to the both of you?" He asked and frowned deeply.

Sebastian sighed. "No. Artemis don't ever think that you're a burden. But if you must know, James wanted you to be here so he knows that you are safe with him as all of this goes down. He wants you by his side and not in Dublin because..." He then hesitated.

"Because what?" Artemis pressed and waited for an answer with bated breath.

"I'm sorry Artemis. It's not my place to tell you." Sebastian finished. _Because your mother knows about Fowl Manor in Dublin._ Artemis had been named after his mother's father, Artemis Fowl the First.

James hadn't realized that he even had a son until he had heard about how Angeline had gotten into a car accident but a little boy had been in the car. A boy barely two years of age and James, he had known that this boy was his offspring. He had confronted Angeline about it and then that's when he found out about Angeline's condition.

It hadn't been a car accident. Angeline had just had an episode.

 _Schizophrenia._

She had been diagnosed with it but had been able to keep Artemis. Once James learned of this he found Angeline to be an unsuitable mother and then when Artemis was five, James took him to Dublin where Fowl manor resided. Fowl manor though at that time had been a major base of operations for his criminal network but soon it became Artemis' home.

Artemis gave a nod of understanding and then looked out the window. Sebastian keeping secrets from him was nothing new to him. He had gotten used to it over the years but that didn't mean he still had to like it. He then blinked, seeing something out of the corner of his eyes that made his head turn, his eyes gazing out the plane window. An airport was coming into view and getting bigger and bigger as each second passed, growing in size as they got closer.

 _They had arrived._

* * *

 ** _The moon rises,_**

 ** _The wolves howl._**

 ** _In the dead of night,_**

 ** _Arrives Artemis Fowl._**

* * *

 _I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I really had fun establishing the relationship between Artemis and Sebastian but also digging deeper into the relationship between Artemis and James. It's a lot of fun to write about it and I will be definitely continuing that! Anyways, please post a review with any thoughts or just general critique. And also thank you **C'Riverblade** for commenting on the last chapter. I do hope you find this chapter interesting as well and I'm glad you commented before I updated. XD Well, until next time me dearies!_ ** _\- Admin_**


	5. Did you miss me?

Mycroft Holmes was a man that served solely his queen and country. He was a selfless man having such a strong sense of duty to his nation, and this, in turn, had shown how much he was devoted to the royal crown.

His brother, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. His conscience directed him with no regard for what others expect of him. He had little use for laws and regulations and it was usually Mycroft himself that kept his little brother out of trouble. Trouble meaning a cell.

Sherlock followed his own moral compass, which, although good (he used that word very loosely), may not agree with that of society. Matter of fact it never agreed with society and yet Scotland Yard still lets him help with cases because it was an obvious fact that they needed the Consulting Detective.

So that was one of the many reasons why Mycroft Holmes was currently sitting in the Diogenes Club. A place where many men in London had no wish for the company of the other people present, whether from shyness or misanthropy. The seemingly anti-social men and women of this club though are not averse to comfortable chairs and the latest periodicals. It is for the convenience of these specific people that the Diogenes Club was started, and it now contains the most unsociable and unclubbable people in town. One of them being the British Government who had an incredibly IQ but unfortunately was completely lacking in the EQ department.

This seemed to be an uncanny trait that was webbed throughout the children of the Holmes bloodline. Specifically in Sherlock and Mycroft themselves. The Diogenes Club provided the perfect place for Mycroft to think clearly about this. His thoughts lingered on Sherlock but they also lingered on something else. Specifically someone else.

 _James Moriarty._

A thorn in his side that was impossible to pull out as it dug further in. He had been nothing but a nuisance for him. A nuisance that he didn't dare underestimate. A man hat found either indifference or joy in others pain. A sadist. What was even worse though was how Moriarty knew that his actions were wrong but he did not care. In fact, when it came to the concept of morality he showed nothing but pure apathy.

That was one of the few things that made him completely unpredictable.

A bomb waiting to go off. A timer ticking down to zero. Destructive, narcissistic, sadistic. Moriarty's entire being was calamitous.

But there were ways to defuse a ticking time bomb.

Except Mycroft knew he was at a disadvantage because he had no intel that could be used to 'one-up' over Napoleon of Crime.

He sighed to himself and rubbed his forehead wondering what he was going to do. He did not want to get his little brother involved with this because he was well aware that it would only make this a more sizable mess than it already was, and Mycroft already had enough on his plate.

His thoughts were automatically interrupted as he felt his cellphone vibrate from within his pocket. He frowned slightly and took it out only to see the lit up screen showing a text from Sherlock himself.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he scanned it.

 _I have information on the Teardrop of the Nile._ _**-SH**_

Mycroft wanted to show his annoyance through a small groan or some other sound of displeasure, but he knew he couldn't. Not while he was in the Diogenes Club, the quietest place in London.

 _MI6 is dealing with this case, and was I not clear when I told you that I did not want you to get yourself involved?_ _**-MH**_

He sent the simple text back wondering what his brother might of have found but exasperation clouded his mind. He couldn't put up with his brother's antics all the time like this but unfortunately, he had no choice. Sherlock disregarded the law the same way that he disregarded his basic needs, such as sleeping and eating. Mycroft was the definition of the British Government, the body that held the law.

 _MI6 is nothing but the Queen's dogs that she keeps on leashes. They can't actually get anything done without permission. Now back to what actually matters, Angeline Fowl came to visit me and she told me something rather interesting._ _**-SH**_

Once his eyes had flickered over the words over the new text, he couldn't help but blink out of surprise.

 _Angeline Fowl._

Now that was a name that he had not heard of in quite a while. He knew that Sherlock and Angeline were 'involved' with each other over a decade ago at some point, but it had been a sort of professional relationship. At least that's what Sherlock said, though Mycroft did have his suspicions.

 _I assume that it will be useful information._ _ **-MH**_

 _It is but I am not about to just give it to you._ _ **-SH**_

Of course, Sherlock wanted something out of it. Something that he could benefit from because it would be too convenient for Sherlock to just give him this piece of information that could be of some importance to him. He thought about his options carefully but Moriarty posed a bigger threat.

 _Name your conditions._ _**-MH**_

He sent the text with reluctance but he knew that whatever intel his brother had was more important.

 _I am allowed in on this case and all information MI6 finds on it has to be shared with me._ _**-SH**_

The British Government took a deep breath. His brother wanted him to share confidential information with him. Mycroft felt his head throb slightly at the daunting request but he knew that just like Scotland Yard it was a fact that he needed his brother's help. What was worse though was that Sherlock most likely knew that as well.

 _It depends on the information you have._ _ **-MH**_

There was a brief moment of silence from his phone as if the Consulting Detective was actually contemplating whether or not to tell Mycroft. And then his phone vibrated again.

 _Moriarty has a son._ _ **-SH**_

Mycroft's eyes widened slightly at those four words. He had seen Moriarty as a murderer, a criminal, liar, and manipulative. An adversary that could not just be toyed with. But never had he ever seen Moriarty as a _father_.

 _And Angeline told you this?_ _**-MH**_

Mycroft then paused for a moment before sending another text.

 _Angeline has schizophrenia, does she not?_ _ **-MH**_

It was true. Angeline had been diagnosed when she spent time with Sherlock during their 'professional relationship'. Mycroft would hardly call it professional though, especially since what they had been partners in was hardly legal. Angeline had been a thorn in his side that he had been able to get rid of. But now apparently she was back.

 _If you are implying that she is making this up, the answer is no. I already did my research before calling you but he could be our key to finding Moriarty._ _ **-SH**_

Mycroft knew that Sherlock was right but where would they even start to look for the child? He would have to do more research of his own to find out more about this supposed son but for now, they could use Angeline since she apparently had relations with Moriarty himself. She could have useful information which made her an asset. As long as she didn't have an 'episode'.

 _Keep Angeline at Baker Street and you have yourself a deal, Sherlock._ _ **-MH**_

Now Mycroft didn't get much time to think to himself but that did not matter. What mattered was the fact that he now had a plausible lead that could take them directly to Moriarty himself. He stood about to pocket his phone until it all of a sudden vibrated. He sighed wondering what Sherlock wanted now. It wasn't Sherlock though. No. This text belonged to the devil himself.

 _Did you miss me?_ _ **~JM xoxo**_

Moriarty had arrived. And he was in London, the chessboard of all his games. Everyone on it was nothing but a toy for him to command, pieces on the board. Mycroft did not know what piece he represented in Moriarty's mind but he felt like he was nothing but a pawn to the criminal mastermind. He would not allow this to happen though. He now had an advantage over Moriarty and he was going to use it.

James should have been much more careful when he created himself such a vulnerable weakness and it took the form of a child. His child. He would certainly have to thank Sherlock later for this priceless piece of information. But deep down inside he knew that that was never going to happen.

* * *

 ** _The moon rises,_**

 ** _The wolves howl._**

 ** _In the dead of night,_**

 ** _Arrives Artemis Fowl._**

* * *

 _I apologize that it's been so long since the last update, but I find it hard to stay committed to a story if it's not a one-shot. But with this chapter hopefully, this will get me motivated to write more of it, especially since people seem to be enjoying it._

 _This chapter was a bit difficult to write though, and that's because I find Mycroft Holmes to be quite a complex character, but I had to reel him into the story somehow and this seemed to be the way to do it._

 _Anyways, please post a review with any thoughts or just general critique. And also thank you **C'Riverblade** for that beautiful comment you wrote last time. Not sure if you remember it since its bee so long but I really appreciated it._

 _And also_ ** _PA_** _sorry for the late update (that's an understatement, I know) but I am continuing it now!_

 ** _GeneralJackStarling_** _glad that you agree with me on the Moriarty and Janus connection! I thought it worked well myself._

 ** _altairsigma1_** _I am flattered by your words and I do hope I can live up to your expectations but this update was a bit anti-climatic? I suppose that's the right word, but it's a small chapter to get me to actually start writing this again. I promise that the next chapter will be better!_

 _Well, I hope you all enjoyed this rather short chapter and critique is appreciated along with any other reviews!_

 _Until next time me dearies!_ ** _\- Admin_**

 ** _P.S._** _Did you miss me?_


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